


of how we calmed the tides of war

by scribacchina



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Loki is Less of a Shit, M/M, Valkyrie is Drunk (Predictably), sorta - Freeform, this could turn into a series of small fics idk let's see how it goes, thor is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 20:57:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12712815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribacchina/pseuds/scribacchina
Summary: In which Loki realizes how far he's willing to go for Thor - spoiler, it's a lot more than what he'd expected.





	of how we calmed the tides of war

**Author's Note:**

> uhh right. I've been in this fandom for ages, and THIS is the first thing I publish. I literally wrote this in two hours, please be gentle. 
> 
> Title from "Immigrant Song" by Led Zeppelin. yeah, I'm very original.

A happy ever after, it's what it is. The dawn of a new era. Asgardia shines with a light that her predecessor could never manage: the very light brought on by her king, in the mist of battle. 

And what a battle it was! The people will tell stories of it for the next centuries, they'll sing songs, and write poems, the children will brandish their wooden swords and reenact the glorious fall of old Asgard. 

This, and much more, Loki says to his brother. From the moment Hela sinks to her death, to the quiet privacy of their chambers, Loki never shuts his mouth _once_. 

Valkyrie takes to throw every bottle she empties at his head, in the vain attempt to silence him. He's always just barely out of her reach. Banner's veins pulse a preoccupying green -- Loki eyes him warily, but keeps on. 

Thor is very good at pretending Loki's words annoy him. 

Loki doesn't mind the uneducated manners of their new companions. They don't know. They don't understand. Perhaps, even Thor himself is too oblivious - it wouldn't be the first occasion. 

Loki has a reason for all his gabbing. Like many times before, it's one of the many, subtle ways in which he helps his brother. Now, however, it's different. 

It was easy to make Thor happy, when they were young and full of life, ignorant of the terrors waiting for them outside the secure embrace of the royal palace. 

It was easier yet, when all Thor could think about were mead, adventure, and women. His moods never lasted for long. 

But there is no palace on their little spaceship. There aren't Frigga's loving arms to bury their sorrows in. Even Odin, for each curse that Loki has cast at him through the years - Loki would gladly swallow his own poison if it could bring him back. 

Of course, Thor doesn't need to know all that. 

Loki is razor sharp, quick to hurt. Always been, and always will be. His edges are pointy and slick, like the blades of his daggers. You can get cut easily on them; Thor has. Many times. A vast majority of the scars scattered over his body have come from Loki's ill intent. 

Most of them, Loki regrets inflicting. Or, at least, he does now: now that his brother has fallen to such a low, now that the only thing he relies on is the trust of his people, and the thrum of lighting shaking under his skin. 

So, Loki strives to make himself more mellow. _Softer_. Ielding, where once he swore he never would. Ah, but times change, and even gods have to adapt. That is a lesson the both of them know all too well. 

It is difficult, to change one's nature. Thor would advocate it to be impossible, even. Loki smiles to himself, bitter and a little sad. 

Is he really ready to become someone else? To get better, as they say? Is he really going to change, for Thor? 

Loki keeps talking to stifle the sound of his own thoughts. 

"You," says Thor, one night, "Are weird." Loki shrugs it off, going back to polish his throwing knives. 

Thor is lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling - the mechanic roof opens to reveal a glass panel, and behind, the marvelous expanse of the universe. 

Or, as Loki likes to call it, the stinking hell-hole in which they've been fluctuating for close to a month now. 

Thor laughs, "Aw, brother. Where have your poetic ways gone?" 

"The same remote alcove your optimistic views have vanished to," Loki retorts, before he can stop his tongue. Dammit. 

His brother hums, retreating into one of his sullen silences - he's grown so much quieter, Loki sometimes forget he's even there. So, when he finally speaks, Loki jolts off his chair. 

"Loki," Thor says, voice low, "Come lay down with me." 

Loki goes, because he has to make up for that caustic humor of his, somehow, and this seems like the only chances Thor is going to give him. 

He plops down on the covers, listens to the whisper of the synthetic fabric as he settles to Thor's side. 

"Aren't they beautiful," Thor murmurs, "The stars?" 

Loki makes a humming sound in agreement, pretending not to notice that Thor isn't looking at the stars at all. 

"They are," he concedes. One arm shoots up, finger pointing, "Do you recall our astrology sessions?" 

Surprisingly enough, Thor does remeber.

He names the constellations, and even provides a little backstory. Where his mind goes blank, Loki nudges it, but in a nurturing way; as Frigga would, gently, without the sarcastic remarks he's so famous for. 

( _Later, Loki will wonder why Thor's mind hasn't been clouded with thoughts of his beloved Midgard girl. Has their breakup been so terrible, Thor has banished the memories of her, away to some far off corner of his brain?_

 _Has he already forgotten her?_ ) 

They keep going until Valkyrie barges in, a large jug balanced in the crook of her arm. 

"Look what I found!" She says, leaning against the door frame. Loki regards her with an annoyed look. Thor smiles, propping himself up on his elbows. From this angle, Loki can see how the hair is regrowing on his scalp, blonder than ever. 

"You should go easy with that," Thor says, "It comes from Asgard's cellars. It has been aged for thousands of years." 

Valkyrie's eyebrows shoot up. She looks down at the jug, then up at Thor, then again at the jar, before raising her eyes to the ceiling with a victorious grin. 

" _Fuck yeah_." 

"Thor, you're not helping!" Yells Banner, trying to get the liquor out of the - now even more resolute to drain every last drop of the jug's content - woman's hands. 

Loki exhibits one of his notorious face palms. 

Valkyrie starts running down the corridor, Banner - or rather, Hulk, running after her, calling for her to "leave the bad water".

Thor shakes his head, and sits up on the edge of the mattress. Loki watches as he stands, stretching his arms - thin specks of light dance across his forearms, with a hissing sound. 

"Better to get going," Thor says, "Before those two destroy the whole ship." 

"Right," Loki says, instinctively reaching forward. There is a moment of silence, during which neither of them dares make a move. 

Then, very slowly, Thor extends one hand. Loki grabs it, shuddering at the feel of electricity running through his bones at the contact. The smell of ozone fills his nostrils, and Thor's grip tightens. 

For a second, Loki feels like he's trapped in a thunder storm. 

"Sorry," Thor whispers, dragging him up. It is Loki's turn to shake his head. 

"Don't apologize, brother dear," he pauses, considering. Then, his lips break into a toothy smile. 

" _Just a sparkle_."

\---

Loki has an epiphany. He's, again, lying in Thor's bed. Thor is there, too. Only difference, they're under the covers, and not much interest is given to the constellations. 

"It's gone," he says. Thor looks down at him, large chest heaving.

"It's all gone." 

Thor grunts, and hastily disentangles himself from Loki's limbs. His bones have become like honey, and he's too tired to protest. 

"Way to cheer a brother up," he grumbles, winding his arms around Loki's middle, pushing his back snug against him. Loki scoffs, "I think I've offered you more than enough," he says, rubbing his sweat slicked forehead on a pillow. Thor huffs his disagreement. 

They lay, in silence. Loki finds himself at loss, without smart comments, or silly puns. Nothing. 

"Not everything." 

"Ah?" 

"Not everything is gone," Thor forces Loki to face him, calloused hands tracing the curve of his neck. Loki leans in, force of habit. 

"Well then," Loki says, in the softest voice he can manage, "What is left?" 

Thor stares at him, with those too clear eye of his, patch still on because the feeling of air on the mauled skin makes his skin crawl. His fingers card through Loki's hair, tugging lightly like you would do with an unruly pup. 

"You're here," he says, with a tone that suggests he has trouble believing it. 

"By the Nines, _you're here_ , Loki. Despite it all." 

Loki leans in, mouth aching for a twin touch, "Yes, yes, yes. I'm here." 

 

And that's all that matters, really.


End file.
